Tuesday night, after I resolved to procrastinate cleaning until the weekend, Daddy called and asked if I could take the chicken out of the freezer for dinner. (Yes, it has occurred to me that I should do less complaining about the man that regularly serves me home cooked meals. Anyway…)
I realized I hadn’t been in the kitchen in several weeks, and it was more disgusting than I’d remembered. I saw what looked like half a peapod smushed on the counter, and that was it.
I went back upstairs, got my fancy vacuum cleaner, and finally started attacking parts of the house that I’ve been meaning to vacuum for months.
The staircase, covered with cobwebs and dust, was the most satisfying part. The worst part was the disgusting blinds, which I really just want to throw out, but am not ready to fight Daddy on that yet. So I tried to vacuum them and… something flew out at me!
Granted, it was a fly and not a bat. But still, I think it was lying dormant and now it’s going to kill me.
Then the kitchen. Where I also discovered a pile of old mail on the floor behind Daddy’s chair……. sigh…… But I got the peapod that had started this whole battle.
Finally, I got to the mudroom in the back of the house. When I started vacuuming dust bunnies out of what can only be described as a cartoon mouse hole, I gave up. I’m just too afraid of what I might find back there.
I don’t know which is worse, the fact that there’s still so much more cleaning to do, or that my dad will never even notice that I did anything.
Oh well. I think I’ll save both my physical and emotional cobwebs for another day. I know that procrastination is generally frowned on, but I think it’s a legit self-preservation technique (sometimes).